


Bedside Manners

by Marley93



Category: Glee
Genre: Because Blaine and Kurt are nerds fight me, Disney References, Fluff, M/M, Sick Blaine, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 19:36:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10928613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marley93/pseuds/Marley93
Summary: Kurt and Blaine go on a date night, but it doesn't end as they had envisioned.





	Bedside Manners

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone always makes Blaine out to be the biggest Disney nerd, but I'll bet you Kurt can compete. 
> 
> I hate writing endings, I suck at them. Always have done. I need to practice more.

“ _Hu-uurgh..._ ”

Kurt hated being sick. He hated the nausea, he hated the sensation of his last meal making its way up, he hated-

“ _Uh-uh-hu-uuurgh…_ ”

He hated the sounds it made you produce against your will. He hated the sour smell and the vile aftertaste, which just wouldn’t go away after brushing your teeth only once. There was only one thing Kurt hated more than being sick, and that was-

“ _Hack-h-uuuuurgh!_ ”

When Blaine was sick.

“There, there,” Kurt murmured, rubbing his husband’s back. The shirt was damp from sweat. “Let it all out, sweetheart. That’s it…” He turned his head away a little bit at the sound of Blaine’s sick splattering into the porcelain toilet bowl.  “Guess we won’t be eating any sushi from that place anytime soon, huh?” he said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Blaine groaned, panting and resting his head on the toilet seat. A few of his more pertinacious curls had long since escaped their gel-prison, and Kurt couldn’t help but run his fingers through them.

“Could you please try not to mention any food? Or just let me die in peace?” Blaine asked dramatically.

Kurt failed to repress a snort. “It’s food poisoning, not Ebola,” he said, gently rubbing his fingers over the other man’s neck.

Blaine replied with another bout of hurling.

“And there goes more fish back to the sea,” Kurt observed. “Go Nemo!” He easily dodged Blaine’s hand, which blindly tried to hit him.

Blaine raised his head again and turned it to glare at Kurt. “Has anyone ever told you you have horrible bedside manners?” he brought out hoarsely, sniffing back- something, judging by his disgusted expression and swallowing afterwards.

“I’ll ask my dad, but I doubt he’ll remember much, since he was in a coma,” Kurt answered drily. “Are you done puking?”

Blaine sniffled again, and sat back a little. He eyed the contents of the bowl gloomily until Kurt reached out and flushed them, then he sighed and sagged against his husband. “I think so,” he muttered. “But I’m taking a bucket to bed with me, just in case.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Kurt agreed, gently nudging Blaine away so he could get up and help the shaky, dishevelled looking man to his feet. “Brush your teeth and rinse with mouthwash,” he said. “I’ll go get you a glass of water and that bucket.”

Blaine shuffled over to the sinks – all two steps – and did as Kurt had told him to.

While Blaine freshened up a little, Kurt quickly went into the bedroom to grab his husband a clean set of pajamas, and then headed to the kitchen for the bucket and a glass of water. As he stood at the sink, filling the glass, he allowed himself to sulk a little.

Tonight was supposed to be fun, romantic and sexy. Instead, they’d gotten fun, food poisoning and vomiting.

They’d had their first shared weekend off in weeks, and figured they could start it out with a date night. So far so good; Kurt had suggested they go get sushi at a new place near their building, and Blaine being Blaine had readily agreed, even though he’d been a little under the weather the day before. The sushi had tasted great, their waiter had been charming, the atmosphere of the entire restaurant had scored five stars on romance. The latter had led to a makeout session in the back of an Uber which made Kurt give the driver a generous tip, since they’d left little to the man’s imagination about what they were about to do when they got home.

Except the moment they’d set foot in their apartment, Blaine’s face went pale, and he started to complain about pain in his stomach, and… Well, the rest was history.

Turning off the tap and taking the glass, Kurt couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t gotten sick. After all, they’d eaten pretty much the same things all the time. The only exception was Blaine’s adventurous outburst where he ordered himself unagi – something Kurt had never trusted. Had Blaine ever seen how disgusting live eels looked? Well, perhaps that was the perpetrator of the whole vomit-debacle.

“Kurt! Bucket!”

Speaking of which…

Kurt grabbed the bucket, leaving the water for what it was right now, and hurried to the bedroom. He was just in time to shove the small plastic thing under Blaine’s face before the man retched.

Sighing, Kurt sat down on the bed, holding the bucket in place while trying not to get any sick splattered on his hand. He gently massaged Blaine’s neck, humming under his breath. The clammy skin felt quite warm under his fingers.

Kurt frowned and moved his hand to Blaine’s forehead. Also fairly hot.

“Blaine…”

“If you’re gonna make m-more movie references…” Blaine spat in the bucket and shivered. “You can g-get out.”

Kurt shook his head. “No, baby, you feel really hot,” he said. “I’m not joking, I think you might have a fever.”

Blaine looked up, and Kurt’s heart broke a little at the miserable expression on his husband’s face. He cupped his jaw to take a good look at Blaine’s face. He definitely looked pale, and his eyes seemed bleary.

“Ow,” Blaine muttered, shifting.

“Ow? Where ow?” Kurt asked, looking the man over. “What’s wrong?”

Blaine pressed his hand to his stomach, but then pulled it away with a hiss. “There. It hurts really bad now…”

Kurt looked down, and groaned inwardly. “What do you mean ‘now’? Blaine, please don’t tell me you’ve been hiding something health-related from me,” he said sternly.

Judging by the sight of Blaine’s flushed cheeks – and not just the fever-flush – he had.

“I felt better tonight,” Blaine defended himself. “I swear, I did. I figured it was just a slight stomach flu or something that had passed, and- oh god…” He doubled over, cursing like Kurt had hardly ever heard him do before.

“Blaine. Blaine- okay, lay back down, I’m going to call an ambulance,” Kurt said, pushing his husband into a laying position while fumbling his iPhone from his pocket and blindly dialing 9-1-1.

“I don’t need an-”

“Yes, you do!” Kurt snapped at the feebly protesting man. “Because you’ve been ignoring a freaking appendicitis, Blaine, and my guess is that it burst, which is why you felt better for a little while. God, you’re such an idiot someti- yes, hello, this is Kurt Hummel. My husband needs an ambulance…”

\--

“Are you angry with me?”

Kurt was startled out of his thoughts by a raspy, quiet voice on his right. He turned towards the bed, covering both his and Blaine’s hand with his free one. “Hey… How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

After the ambulance had taken Blaine to the hospital, the man had been wheeled into the ER for an ultrasound of his abdomen, which confirmed Kurt’s suspicions: a neglected appendicitis which had ruptured. This left no time for ‘goodbye’ or ‘I’ll be there when you get back’, though, since Blaine was wheeled to the operation room in a flurry of white coats and green paper sheets. Kurt had followed as well as he could, and had spent three hours waiting in an uncomfortable plastic chair for the surgeon to come out and tell him it the procedure had been completed successfully.

Another three hours later found him sitting next to Blaine’s bed, waiting for the man to wake up from the anaesthetics. Despite the fact that it was nearly five in the morning and he hadn’t caught a wink of sleep, Kurt didn’t feel tired. He’d spent his hours waiting, mainly carding his fingers through his husband’s hair and humming softly as he did so.

For a long time, he’d just stared at the pale face beneath the dark mop of curls. He’d never seen Blaine this pale. It was an unsettling sight, and reminded him a little of his father when he’d been in the coma. Kurt had been musing over that fact when he’d heard his husband’s voice whisper the question.

“Kurt,” Blaine rasped out, his eyes half open, but fully focused on Kurt. “Are you angry?”

“Why would I be angry, Bee?” Kurt asked softly, reaching up to rub his thumb over the man’s pale cheek.

Blaine sniffled a little. “You were angry with me earlier…You called me an i-idiot…” he whispered, looking down as if that would hide how vulnerable he looked. “I didn’t- didn’t do it on purpose…”

“Oh, Blaine…” Kurt sighed, leaning in and placing a kiss on his husband’s forehead. “Honey, I was scared, that’s why I lashed out. I’m sorry it made you feel like I was angry with you, baby. I didn’t mean it.”

Blaine looked up. “Really?”

“Really,” Kurt promised, managing a smile. “I hate seeing you sick, Blaine, you know that. Let alone when it’s something as serious as this.”

This only made Blaine sniffle again. “I’m sorry…”

Kurt couldn’t help but chuckle. “Bee…” he said. “Honey, don’t be sorry. I know you didn’t mean to get sick, none of this is your fault. I promise. I’m just glad you’re okay now.” Well, after the eight-week prescription of antibiotics was finished, really, but the worst was over for now.

“I ruined date night,” Blaine muttered, shifting a little in the bed and grimacing a little.

“Careful, you’ll pull your stitches,” Kurt murmured, tenderly adjusting the pillow beneath his husband’s head. “And don’t worry about that, we’ll have plenty of date nights ahead of us that will go a lot better.” He leaned in and pecked a soft kiss to his husband’s dry lips. “For now, let’s focus on getting you on top of your game again, okay?”

Blaine closed his eyes, humming softly. “Okay,” he replied with somewhat of a sigh.

They were quiet for a while, Kurt’s thumb rubbing circles over the back of Blaine’s hand. He watched the man’s still pale face, and then a mischievous grin broke out on his face.

“At least you got to reunite Nemo with his dad.” Kurt couldn’t help but cackle at Blaine’s exasperated groan.

“Kurt, seriously…”

“Flounder and Ariel.”

“Can you shut up?”

“Dory and Destiny”

Blaine cracked one eye open. “Kurt, Destiny is a whale shark,” he said, a tired grin now starting to tug at the corners of his mouth. “I’m pretty sure that’s not what sushi is made of.”

“I love how you protest that, but not the fact that Ariel is a mermaid. Although I’m pretty sure sushi not made out of Nemos, anyway,” Kurt replied, picking up Blaine’s hand and kissing the palm.

“They’re called clownfish. When will you learn?” Blaine smiled, before he couldn’t hold back a yawn anymore. His eyes drifted shut along with his mouth.

Kurt smiled and put down Blaine’s hand again. “Catch some sleep, Bee,” he murmured, though soft snores indicated the man was already working on that. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face. He stretched out his legs and closed his eyes, figuring he might as well try to get some shuteye before the nurses came to start the day.

His last thought before he drifted off to sleep was that they should probably visit the aquarium on their next date, so Blaine could teach him all about Nemos.


End file.
